


One Step

by PhantomPhan16



Category: Dracula - Bram Stoker, Hammer Horror Films
Genre: Insanity, Mild Blood, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 00:51:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7337977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomPhan16/pseuds/PhantomPhan16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two choices. One step. Life or death?</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Step

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off an idea from the Hammer film "Satanic Rites of Dracula' where Van Helsing(Peter Cushing) suggests the idea that Dracula(Christopher Lee) is using his plan to wipe out every living thing on the planet to fulfill his own death wish. The idea that Dracula secretly longs for an end inspired this. Please enjoy.

Blood. Hot, sticky,… delicious. It filled his mouth, ran down his throat, and what he didn't swallow covered his front. The hunger pangs eased, but the voices, the voices remained. Tormenting him. He could not shut them out, could not silence them. He slapped his hands over his ears, a useless gesture as one could not block out the voices in their mind.

He shook, digging his fingers into his scalp, felt the skin give, break, felt his own blood coat his hands. He staggered to his feet and ran blindly through the ancient forest that had long been his domain, his sanctuary. He ran until his foot caught a gnarled root, and he was sent tumbling down a steep hill, coming to a stop just short of a small creek.

He scrambled back up, ready to continue his vain run, for he could not outrun the past anymore than he could outrun his own insanity. He threw his head back and screamed, an inhuman sound of ages of pain and hopelessness.

He began clawing at himself, though the wounds healed quickly. He continued anyway. He tore at himself like a madman, screaming, wailing,... crying. It did not end his suffering. It never did.

Blood covered the ground by the time he finally stopped. He ran again, this time with purpose. Through the forest he raced until he at last came to the sea as the sun was rising. He gazed down the cliff-face at the sea. One step would plunge him into the churning waters, to his destruction. He stood there, as he had so many times before.

One step. One step he could never bring himself to take.

The wind brought the scent of a familiar and hated man.

"Van Helsing," he said softly.

"Count," was the Dutchman's reply.

He turned to face the old man, the doctor who's knowledge had led to his defeat years ago, yet he had not been destroyed as they had hoped,… as he had hoped.

"This is not the first time I have watched you here, Count. You come everyday, and everyday you stand here for hours like one preparing to take his own life. Yet... you never do."

The powerful shoulders slumped, and suddenly the fearsome vampire seemed more like a confused and frightened child.

"I am tired of this existence. So long. Too long," he admitted.

"Yes, I know. You have seen ages pass. Tell me, Count. Do you wish to truly die?"

"I... I don't know. I am tormented by the past, the voices, the images. It never stops."

Van Helsing took a step closer, no longer fearing Dracula.

"You are a creature of habit, yet you are also a creature of change. Perhaps more than anyone ever thought possible. You do not have to hold on to this suffering, but you do not have to die to be free of it, either."

The old man held out a hand. Dracula stared at it. Once he would not have hesitated to break it or even bite it off, but now he simply stared.

That simple gesture offered so many things. Van Helsing offered so many things, and above all, Dracula knew, he offered help.

He glanced back at the sea.

"You can continue as you are, jump, or you can come with me. We will put you back together, properly."

He took the Dutchman's hand, and together they left behind the sea and the death it offered. For so long he had wished for death, but perhaps what he truly needed was life.


End file.
